


Kingly or Not

by kakikiro



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Third Year KageHina, hinata wakes him up, kageyama has a nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakikiro/pseuds/kakikiro
Summary: 'The team is stronger with six on the court, but what happens when there's only one? The court has never felt so lonely.The lights in the gym grow dimmer and dimmer, until he's left in the darkness with a crimson cape draped over his shoulders. He looks to the volleyball on what's left of the floor, reaches towards it with shaky hands. All he wants is to play the sport he loves, but who will accept his tosses?And then, a familiar voice calls out to him. It's soft, warm, like small rays of sunlight breaking through clouds on a chilly day. He hears his name. He shivers under the red velvet draped over his shoulders. He clutches at the material, heart aching, but in an almost good way. Dark eyes brim with fresh tears threatening to spill over. That voice…'





	Kingly or Not

**Author's Note:**

> i've been wanting to write for them (and i have been working on a big fic for these guys), and this idea just kind of came out of the blue. so i guess this makes this my ~first official~ completed fic for them!! this was rlly self-indulgent and fun, i hope you enjoy!

_Faster._

They're falling behind by several points. At this rate, the team is going to lose. Kageyama doesn't want to lose--he wants to stay on the court until the very last match. But his team, on the other hand…

He tosses the ball, but his spiker misses. The spiker could've made it if he ran _faster,_  jumped _higher,_  swung _harder,_  but he merely lands on his feet.

“Don't mind,” says the middle blocker behind him.

No, he should _definitely_ mind. His laziness cost them another point.

“Oi,” Kageyama says, reeling to glare at his spiker. “Move faster. Jump higher! If you want to win, match my tosses!”

The spiker returns with his own scowl, but says nothing.

Well, whatever. He'll _make_ them move faster.

Kageyama lifts the black collar of his uniform, wipes it across the sweat dripping off his cheeks. He gets into position, eyes focused on the ball in the opposing server's hands. The whistle blows. Here they go.

A killer serve moves blindingly fast to his side, the libero receives it graciously. The ball is up, and it's heading for him. He lifts his arms up, calculates how fast it all needs to go to avoid the blockers lining up. If he's one second too late, this could be what costs the game.

He feels the heft of the ball in both palms, pushes it upwards like a gun releasing a bullet. He waits, and waits for the satisfying slap of the ball slicing through the air. But he hears nothing. Instead, a crushing silence falls over him, followed by an unsettling sound.

The ball lands on the floor behind him in a symphony of muted thuds, and rolls in the path of missing players. He looks behind him. The whole game has been full of mistakes, but that--that is no mistake.

His blood runs cold. It feels like he's been kicked in the gut, the need to double over and catch his breath takes hold of him.

Kageyama watches his teammates leave, like slow motion. They pause once, turning to face him, and Kageyama turns still as a stone as they lock gazes. Their eyes are steely, soulless, like strangers casting him aside. They look at him as though _he's_ at fault, that _he_ placed the ball on the bright wooden floors.

Their voices echo, are distant, and they burn with rejection. They say they don't want to play with him anymore, his tosses are impossible to hit, he's just a demanding _king._ Who wants to work with a setter like him?

Kageyama can't fathom this. As the setter, it's his duty to take charge and lead his team to victory. He's positive the plays he's made are what they need to win. He knows they're capable of so much more, and he sets it up for them. But they don't listen. It's not he who is lacking, it's _them._

“Kageyama,” his coach says, “why don't you…”

_No._

The crown on his head is cold and heavy, a reminder of the title forced upon him.

“Go sit…”

_Please. He wants to..._

“On the bench.”

He wants to stay on the court, he wants to fight. He wants to feel the thrill of the court thrumming in his veins, the sting of the ball on his palms. He wants to win, to give it his all--his blood, his sweat, his tears. All of it.

It can't be over yet.

“No!”

Wooden floors begin to crack, and he steps away. Kageyama turns on his heels with desire to run, but the floor behind him shatters, too. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Shame as thick as fog seeps over him, clings to his skin like sweat. He tries to take the crown off his head, but it won't come off.

The team is stronger with six on the court, but what happens when there's only one? The court has never felt so lonely.

The lights in the gym grow dimmer and dimmer, until he's left in the darkness with a crimson cape draped over his shoulders. He looks to the volleyball on what's left of the floor, reaches towards it with shaky hands. All he wants is to play the sport he loves, but who will accept his tosses?

And then, a familiar voice calls out to him. It's soft, warm, like small rays of sunlight breaking through clouds on a chilly day. He hears his name. He shivers under the red velvet draped over his shoulders. He clutches at the material, heart aching, but in an almost good way. Dark eyes brim with fresh tears threatening to spill over. That voice…

He looks up when the gym is no longer stuck in darkness. Its ceiling is gone, and the sunlight shines bright overhead, bathing the court in golden. The rejection begins to fade, replaced with a feeling of being wanted.

He feels invincible.

The voice calls to him again, “Kageyamaaaa… wake…”

This confuses him. “W-Wake?”

“Ka-ge-yama! Wake up!”

Kageyama jerks awake, breath harsh as his dark room filters in his vision. Two small hands are pressed into his chest, shaking him back into consciousness still. He covers them with his own hands, squeezing them as he tries to collect himself.

“Another nightmare, huh?” Hinata asks him, voice rough with sleep.

Kageyama nods, though he's not sure if Hinata can see it. So he huffs a “yeah” out loud.

“Wanna talk about it?”

There's a moment of silence as he considers this. He's used to these dreams. They haven't been as frequent lately, now that he's in his third year of high school, and he's been a part of a great team. He feels a little silly that some of his middle school issues continue to pester him, even after all this time. But still… It doesn't make them any easier to deal with in the moment.

He focuses on the small person nestling into his side. A slim leg drapes over his waist, and a warm hand presses to his cheek. Hinata runs his thumb over it in a soothing, circular pattern. Kageyama focuses on the warmth radiating off of him, the way it pushes the nightmares chill away.

“It's stupid,” Kageyama says.

“I don't think so,” Hinata says. “Talk to me.”

“It is.” Kageyama relents with a sigh. “It was about volleyball--before.”

Hinata pats his cheek. “Before Karasuno?”

 _Before you,_  Kageyama thinks, and feels a little cheesy for thinking that. But it's true. He nods anyways.

“I was back in middle school. And my old teammates left, and the gym floors started disappearing, and--”

“They started disappearing?” Hinata asks a bit in awe.

“Yeah. Told you it's dumb. But it was scary in the dream. It was also cold, and…”

“And?”

Kageyama brings a hand up to clutch right above his heart. The rejection still kind of hits home, regardless of how many years it's been, or how much trusts he's built in his current team.

“It hurt so much.”

“That's not dumb,” Hinata says. Now there's another hand on his opposite cheek, another thumb running little circles over it.

“Thanks,” Kageyama says, sincere.

He closes his eyes and relaxes at the familiar touch, the warm hands a little rough and calloused from all the spiking they've endured.

“You were talking in your sleep,” Hinata says after a moment.

Oh… Well, that's not good.

This makes Kageyama open his eyes, and he feels his ears warm. “What was I saying?”

His eyes adjust to the darkness, and he can see the silhouette of Hinata's crazy bed hair looming over him. He watches as Hinata cocks his head to the side, probably gazing back at him with teasing eyes.

Hinata laughs. “You kept saying no and faster. I was a bit confused.”

 _Ugh,_  out of everything, those two words?

“I'm going back to sleep,” Tobio says unceremoniously, and rolls over.

“Wait, wait! I know it's not funny. I'm sorry!”

Hinata rolls with him, still clinging to him like a little koala. There's another long pause of silence, and Kageyama debates whether he'll take the opportunity to seriously fall back asleep or not. But he can't shake the voices from the dream.

_Who wants to work with a setter like him?_

His heart starts pounding faster in his chest, and he grits his teeth.

“Hey, Kageyama,” Hinata says, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“Are you scared we will do the same to you? Even after three years?”

Kageyama considers this. “No. Not anymore. I stopped worrying well into our second year.”

“Oh…” Hinata says. Then, “Well, you'll never have to worry about it again. I'll always be your partner.”

This takes Kageyama aback, and this time his heart stings in a different way. He reaches up, blindly grabs the front of Hinata's shirt, and drags him closer. So close, he feels Hinata’s breath puff softly against his face. It's warm and inviting, and Kageyama really wants to kiss him. Forget about the stupid dream as he clings to those words.

“Yeah? Even if I'm the best in Japan?” he asks, recalling their promise from their first year. “The world?”

“The world,” Hinata agrees.

Then their lips are pressed together, and the voices from the dream have an answer. Who would want to work with a setter like him?

His hands lazily comb through the wild tendrils of Hinata's hair, twists the small curls resting on the nape of his neck. Their kiss is nothing heated, just soft and sleepy, and reassuring in every way. He feels Hinata grin, teeth meeting his lips, and Kageyama can't help the smile that wobbles at the corner of his own lips.

Kingly or not, this idiot will be following him everywhere--even to the top of the world.

“Better practice hard,” Kageyama mumbles between kisses. “Because I won't wait if you lag behind.”

“You don't have to worry about that,” Hinata says, thumb brushing Kageyama's bottom lip. “I'm still going to surpass you someday.”

“Uh-huh,” Kageyama says, unbelieving, breaking from the kisses. “But first…”

He wraps his arms around Hinata, bringing him down to crush him against his chest. Hinata yelps and struggles against him.

“C-Can't… breathe…!”

Kageyama chooses to ignore this, squeezing his boyfriend tighter. “We're going to stay on the court until the very last match.”

Hinata breaks free of his grasp to look at him in the darkness. Even if he can't see it, Kageyama knows those wide, brown eyes are sparkling back at him.

“We’re going to win every single one of them,” Hinata vows.

Kageyama grins. “Tomorrow, I'm going to toss to you ‘til you puke, so let's get back to sleep.”

The nightmare is forgotten as a new dream of playing on the world's stage with a little orange twerp replaces it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for them, so i guess lemme know what you think? ;A; feel free to talk to me on tumblr! shouyou10@tumblr


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